Scintillam
by girlwiththeblackinkpen
Summary: Twenty-four and half Half-Blood Prince moments from Ron's point of view. Romione.


**A/N: It's done! Originally going to be Thirty Moments, but not enough inspiration... So, this is my baby, my egg, if you will. This has been sitting in my Doc Manager for over six months. I hope you like it, and I did use some direct dialogue from the books, but not for all the moments. All twenty-four and a half. This literally poured out of me... Anyways. I worked hard on it. My other stories haven't been coming along well, and this is all I have to say for that. I hope you can forgive me... **

* * *

**1.**

Ron has to bite his lip from laughing underneath the cloak at Hermione's absolutely _awful_ acting. Seriously, the girl is brilliant and all, but she can not lie to save her life.

Ron supposes that isn't exactly a bad thing as he throws the cloak back over Hermione.

He smirks at her, "Ah well, worth a try, but you were a bit obvious-"

Hermione shoots him a glare, "Well," she snapped, "next time you can show me how it's done, Master of Mystery!" she snaps.

"Well excuse me for saying something!" Ron snaps back.

*J.K. Rowling, Half-Blood Prince, pg. 127-128

* * *

**2.**

Ron watches Hermione turn towards Harry, her lips drawn into a wide, radiant grin, "Did you really tell him I'm the best in the year?"

Ron feels his stomach bubble at the dreamy expression she seems to be directing at Harry, "Well, what's so impressive about that?" Ron whispers harshly, "You _are_ the best in the year – I'd've told him so if he'd asked me!"

Hermione smiles softly towards him, but puts a slender finger up to her mouth, then turns her attention back sharply towards Slughorn. Ron feels a buzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach, and a rather sour expression crosses his face. Oh sure, when a compliment comes from Harry it means the world, but when he says something Hermione shushes him.

He sniffs the air, attempting to be unobtrusive, but Hermione shoots him an annoyed look before glancing back to Slughorn. He rolls his eyes as Hermione's rapt attention fixes back on Professor Slughorn.

A lovely smell is in the air, the Amortentia, he suspects, which is only a few meters away. He can't help it, he takes another deep breath.

He smells ink, and something that resembles the smell of old books or the library, and a lighter, thinner, happier scent that he can't quite grasp, but is so familiar that he can't help but keep breathing it in, taking in long, deep breaths of it.

Harry nudges him, "Whatcha doin' mate?"

However, Hermione says something about 'liquid luck' and everyone one sits up in the room a little straighter.

*J. K. Rowling Half-Blood Prince pg. 186

* * *

**3.**

"Oh, come on, Harry," Hermione says rather abruptly, "It's not _Qudditch _that's popular, it's you! You've never been more interesting, and frankly, you've never been more fanciable."

Ron splutters on the piece of kipper in his mouth, letting out a loud cough.

What did Hermione mean by that? Did she fancy Harry as well? Did she find Harry 'interesting?'

Ron barely hears any of Hermione's rant, "….now they're calling you 'the Chosen One' – well, come on, can't you see why people are fascinated by you?"

Ron watches bitterly as Harry blushes.

"_And_," Hermione continues, "you've been through all that persecution from the Ministry when they were trying to make out you were unstable and a liar. You can still see the marks on the back of your hand where that evil woman made you write with your own blood, but you stuck to your story anyway…."

Maybe Hermione wants someone dashing, with lots of scars and who's fought in lots of battles, "You can still see where those brains got hold of me in the Ministry, look."

He shakes back the sleeves of his robe.

Hermione ignores him, "And it doesn't hurt that you've grown about a foot over the summer either."

She wants someone tall?

"I'm tall," Ron says, but Hermione only shoots him another glare.

*J.K. Rowling, Half-Blood Prince, pg. 219

* * *

**4.**

Ron grins as Lavender Brown shot him a wide grin. His mood lifts a bit, and he feels a new spring in his step.

However, he feels his mood fall again when Hermione just brushes past the pair of them, not wishing them good luck or giving them a farewell.

*J.K. Rowling, Half-Blood Prince, pg. 222-223

* * *

**5.**

Ron stood nervously on the Quidditch pitch grass. He gripped his broomstick tightly, trying to ignore McLaggen's long and absolutely _horrid_ speech.

"….And I'll tell you man, most of our Gryffindor girls are _ug-lee_, but some of them are kinda hot," McLaggen continued.

This caught Ron's attention, "Like who?"

McLaggen shrugs, "That Katie Bell is pretty fine, but that Hermione Granger is a girl I'd like to get with, if you know what I mean."

There's that buzzy feeling again.

"Oh, uh….." Ron says, not sure to say.

"Hey, you're friends with her, right?" McLaggen says, "Can you introduce me? I betcha I could have her hooked on my arm in a week."

Ron frowns, and his ears are burning, "Hermione, uh, has a boyfriend."

"Really?" McLaggen says, raising an eyebrow, "You and her are a thing now? Since when?"

Ron splutters, this isn't going how he planned, "No, uh, he doesn't go to Hogwarts. He's a big, burly bloke, wouldn't cross him mate."

McLaggen sighs as if he lost out on a great deal, "Oh, Viktor Krum, then? They're still going strong?"

"No! Not him," Ron says nervously, "He was, uh, too thick for her."

McLaggen rolls his eyes, "Whatever, man."

* * *

**6.**

Ron felt relieved and happy, but his stomach still buzzed with adrenaline.

Harry turned toward him, a wide grin on his face and Ron beamed at him.

"Well done," Harry said, patting him on the back, "You flew really well—"

"You did brilliantly, Ron!"

Hermione was running from the stands, and Ron felt his ears turn red. He felt himself straighten up, and lean into Hermione's congratulating hug.

*J.K. Rowling, Half-Blood Prince, pg. 226

* * *

**7.**

Ron swaggered out of the Great Hall, his mood still high and happy.

He turns to Hermione, hoping to again recount how he almost missed that last one, but didn't, but he realizes that she's not there.

Harry's not there either.

He walks back to the Great Hall.

What are they doing together?

Ron spots them standing together by their previous table, and he eyes them suspiciously, "What are you two doing?"

"Nothing," they chime together, and they walk off to Ron without another word.

Ron feels it again, he's been feeling it often now, that buzzy feeling.

*J.K. Rowling, Half-Blood Prince, pg. 232

* * *

**8.****  
**

Hermione was shaking her head at Harry as they walked into Honeydukes, "I can't believe you've wriggled out of another one. They're not _that_ bad you know…. They're even quite fun sometimes….."

A dark expression crossed Ron's face. What did she mean by fun?

_She's probably hooking up with McLaggen and Zabini and and a bunch of other no good rotten little gits that are taller and smarter and better-looking then you._ A snide voice said in the back of his head.

Hermione seemed to have caught his expression because she promptly changed subjects, "Oh, look – they've got deluxe sugar quills – those would last hours!"

Soon, they were loaded up with sugar quills and chocolate cauldrons and licorice wands and Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and Hermione asked Ron kindly where he wanted to go next.

Ron shrugged, still a little ticked off and moody.

*J.K. Rowling, Half-Blood Prince, pg. 244

* * *

**9.**

"Good idea," Hermione whispered to Harry, she then turned her attention sharply to Ron, "Ron, what are you staring at?"

Ron hastily turns away from the bar, he's ashamed to admit that he'd been ogling Madam Rosmerta, "Nothing."

Hermione glared at him, "I expect 'nothing's' in the back getting more firewhisky."

Ron saw in the corner of his eye, however, Hermione's eyes flicker back to the bar and then back to him, and he couldn't help but feel a bit better about himself.

*J.K. Rowling, Half-Blood Prince, pg. 247 – 248

* * *

**10.**

The Snarg-whatever was really getting on Ron's nerves. Seriously. Ron pushes his goggles onto his forehead and wipes some sweat off his forehead, "You know, I don't think I'll be having any of these in my garden when I've got my own place.

"Pass me a bowl," Hermione says, holding a pod and then dropping it into the bowl Harry hands her.

"Don't be squeamish, squeeze it out, they're best when they're fresh!" Professor Spout calls out.

Hermione continues their earlier conversation, "Anyway, Slughorn's going to have a Christmas party, Harry, and there's no way you'll be able to wriggle out of this one because he actually asked me to check your free evenings, so he could be sure to have it on a night you can come."

Ron squashes the pod as hard as he could, feeling the sudden urge to break something, "And this is another party just for Slughorn's favorites, is it?"

Hermione sniffes, "Just for the Slug club, yes."

The pod flies out of Ron's fingers, flying God knows where. In Ron's peripheral vision, he could see Harry going to retrieve it.

A nasty look crosses Ron's face, "Slug Club? What kind of rubbish name is _that_?"

Hermione sniffes again, and her eyes seem to gleam dangerously, "Look, I didn't make up the name 'Slug Club'-"

"Slug Club," Ron jeers, "It's pathetic. Well," he says sarcastically, "I hope you enjoy your party," the words are flooding out now, sharp and angry and jealous, "Why don't you try hooking up with McLaggen, then Slughorn can make you King and Queen Slug-"

Hermione cuts him off, "We're allowed to bring guests," Ron knows she's absolutely _bloody_ furious because she's a bright red now, "And I was _going_ to ask you to come, but if you think it's that stupid then I won't bother!"

That catches Ron by surprise, "You were going to ask me?" he asks tightly.

"Yes," Hermione retorts angrily, "But obviously if you'd rather I _hooked up with McLaggen_…."

Ron pauses, a little at loss for words, because he doesn't really want Hermione hooking up with anyone.

That would be weird. And gross.

Yeah.

That's why he didn't want anyone hooking up with her. She's like a sister. No more.

And brothers are allowed to be overprotective, right?

"No, I wouldn't," Ron heard himself reply in a very quiet, low voice.

A loud crash stuns the pair of them, and he sees Hermione blush and start to fuss around for some book. He feels pleased with himself, because obviously, Hermione must find him somewhat attractive to want to go to a party together, I mean, Hermione wouldn't just take any stupid git, so that means he meets some kind of standard.

Right?

*J.K. Rowling, Half-Blood Prince, pg. 282-283

* * *

**11.****  
**

Ron's face is red and he's angry as hell right now.

"Harry's snogged Cho Chang!" Ginny's screaming in his face now, and her voice comes out thick like she's close to tears, "Hermione snogged Victor Krum, it's only you who acts like it's something disgusting, Ron, and that's because you've got about as much experience as a twelve-year-old!"

Ginny storms away, her footsteps echoing loudly.

Hermione's kissed Victor Krum? When? Why? Did he force himself on her? Hermione didn't seem like the type to….

Soon they've reached the Fat Lady, and the question's burning in him, so he turns abruptly to Harry, "Do you think Hermione did snog Krum?"

Harry stops suddenly, "What? Oh…. Er…."

Ron is not stupid, he can see the sad truth that his best friend is attempting to withhold written all over his face.

Great. Just Great.

*J.K. Rowling, Half-Blood Prince, pg. 286-289

* * *

**12.**

Ron gaped at the full bottle of Felix Felicis, then at Harry, and then he turns to Hermione, harshly imitating her voice, "_You added Felix Felicis to Ron's jusice this morning, that's why he saved everything!_ See! I can save goals without help, Hermione!"

He feels the need to justify this and prove to her that he's worthy, he's smart, and clever, and good at Quiddtich.

Hermione blinks at him, "I never said you couldn't – Ron, _you_ thought you'd been given it too!"

Ron ignores her, striding past her out of the door, serves her right for thinking he couldn't save a bloody thing, serves her right for snogging _it_.

He walks into the common room, and Lavender Brown flings herself at him in a hug that knocks the wind out of him.

"Great job today, Ron!"

Ron feels that burning in his stomach as he thinks about how Viktor Krum's a bloody _international_ Quidditch player, and he's only the Keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and he's not quite sure how it happens but soon his lips are on Lavender Brown's and they're snogging.

He doesn't feel anything, he thought kissing was supposed to have more feeling, but….

He sees Hermione in the corner of his eye storm off out of the common room, and he can't help but feel a little satisfied.

Lavender seems to notice that he's glancing at Hermione to gauge her reaction, and she takes his hand slyly, "Let's go somewhere more…. Private."

Ron nods, and he follows Ron to a door.

Lavender swings the door open, and Ron spots Harry sitting rather awkwardly with a red-eyed, angry-looking Hermione.

"Oh," he says, awkwardly.

Ron avoids Hermione's piercing glare.

"Oops," Lavender says, and she backs out of the room, giggling. The door slams shut.

The silence is deafening, but Ron can't stop the words from coming up, he knows it's cruel, and he knows it's mean, and he knows Hermione's really fragile right now because she's got these freaky little birds twittering around her head but he speaks anyways, "Hi, Harry! Wondered where you'd got to!"

Hermione slides off the desk, the little birds continued to twitter and flap in circles.

"You shouldn't leave Lavender waiting outside," she says very quietly, "She'll wonder where you've gone."

She walks slowly towards the door, and Ron feels relieved, because this is the best witch in the year who could perform N.E.W.T. magic by the fifth year we're talking about here.

_"Oppugno!_" Hermione suddenly shrieks, and her expression is angry, and broken and betrayed, and the little birds are now speeding towards Ron.

"Gerremoffme!" he yells, but Hermione shoots him one last look of disdain-filled, anger, and walks out the door.

Ron distinctly hears a sob before it closes, and he feels a little pang in his chest.

_Ouch._

*J.K. Rowling, Half-Blood Prince, pg. 299-301

* * *

**13.**

_Ron sits down next to Hermione, who is reading a rather thick book. They are sitting under the shade of a tree by the lake, wind rustling softly through the leaves and it was a rather beautiful day._

_ "Morning, Ronald," Hermione says, without looking up._

_ "Hey," Ronald swoops in and gives her a peck on the cheek._

_ Hermione turns to him, smiling coyly, "Ron!"_

_ "What?" Ronald asks with bravado, "I can't kiss my girlfriend?"_

_ Hermione's facial expression changes. Suddenly, Hermione's face morphs into Lavender Brown's, "Of course you can, Won-Won!"_

_ Lavender comes closer, her lips puckered and she looks like a retarded fish and he can't help but feel repulsed._

_ "Come closer Won-Won!"_

Ron wakes with a start.

Harry peers at him strangely, "You okay, mate?"

Ron nods, his heart is still beating fast.

It's Saturday, Ron can tell because Neville's still sleeping and Dean is still snoring as loudly as ever.

"You wanna go to Hogmeade?" Harry asks, as he pulls on some socks.

Ron shakes his head, "Nah, I promised Lavender I'd spend the day with her today."

Ron isn't actually excited about this prospect at all, but he grudgingly gets up and pulls on a jacket, because, unlike his dream, it's snowing outside and he'd rather not freeze to death.

A frantic knock sounds on the door.

"_Won-Won? Are you there? Are you awake?"_

Harry sniggers, and Ron shoots him an annoyed look.

Ron gets up, heading to the door, "Hey Lavender…"

Lavender shoots herself forward in a hug, "Let's go, Won-Won!"

Ron follows after her.

They eat breakfast together, she's going on and on about something and he's not really listening.

Hermione is sitting by herself again, eating toast and eggs. Ron knows exactly what she likes for breakfast, toast with butter folded into triangles and eggs – scrambled- she needs it fully cooked, and a glass of pumpkin juice.

"….I heard her crying _again_, last night, rather pathetic , really, and she has her curtain drawn all the time whenever me and Pavarti walk in…."

_Pavarti and I_, Ron thinks. Hermione would've caught that.

Wait, who's crying again?

"Who is this that's crying?" Ron asks, interrupting her a bit rudely.

"Hermione," Lavender says, annoyed that Ron has stopped her blabbering, "Haven't you been listening, Won-Won?"

"I just, got distracted," Ron says.

He feels the buzzing in his stomach.

Hermione's been crying?

He watches Hermione out of the corner of his eye.

Usually, on Saturdays, Hermione would go to Hogsmeade with Harry and Ron, or head back to the common room to do homework with Harry and Ron, but instead Ron watches as she gets up, and heads for the library.

"Where do you want to go, Won-Won?" Lavender asks, batting her eyelashes.

Ron shrugs, "I don't know…. Uh…. How 'bout the library?"

"Oooooh, snogging in there would be so _bad_," Lavender says, giggling in a high-pitched, annoying way, "I _like_ bad boys."

Ron forces a grin.

When they reach the library, Ron purposefully and tactfully chooses a table right in front of where Hermione is reading.

Lavender pulls him in.

Just like their first kiss, there's no feeling, no emotion.

"Excuse me, but some of us are trying to learn in here," Hermione says rather hotly.

Lavender pulls back, and Ron shoots her a glare, "Well, we happen to have a life, _Granger_."

Hermione looks close to tears now, and it doesn't help that Lavender emits a giggle right then.

"Nice one, Won-Won!" Lavender says.

Hermione slams her book shut, stalking out of the room.

_What's she mad about?_ Ron can't help but think bitterly, _she's snogged bloody Viktor Krum!_

* * *

**14.**

"You could've taken _anyone_!" Ron says loudly over dinner. "_Anyone! _And you chose Loony Lovegood?"

"Don't call her that, Ron," snaps Ginny, she turns to Harry for a second, "I'm really glad you're taking her, Harry, she's so excited."

Ron's gaze follows the table, and he spots Hermione sitting alone, as always, playing with her stew. Harry seems to have noticed Ron's furtive glances towards her.

"You could say sorry," Harry says.

Ron's brow furrowed, "What, and get attacked by another flock of canaries?"

"What did you have to imitate her for?" Harry says, recalling Transfiguration.

"She laughed at my mustache!" Ron defends.

"So did I," Harry says flatly, "it was the stupidest thing I've ever seen."

Ron ignores him, Lavender chooses this moment to squeeze between him and Harry and fling her arms around Harry's neck.

"Hi Harry," Ron hears Pavarti say to Harry.

He doesn't catch they're conversation, but he sees Hermione walking towards them.

His heart pangs a little when Hermione completely ignores Lavender and him, and he watches as Hermione smiles and says animate to Pavarti, "Hi, Pavarti! Are you going to Slughorn's party tonight?"

"No invite," Pavarti says back gloomily, "I'd love to go though, it sounds like it's going to be really good…. You're going, aren't you?"

"Yes," Hermione says, still beaming like a beacon, "I'm meeting Cormac at eight, and we're—"

Ron chokes, Cormac? _Cormac McLaggen?_

Hermione continues on, still ignoring him, "—we're going up to the party together."

"Cormac?" Parvati says, as surprised as Ron, "Cormac McLaggen, you mean?"

"That's right," Hermione replies in that fake sugary sweet tone, "The one who _almost_ became Gryffindor Keeper."

What did she mean by that?

Jesus, Ron needs a bloody road map to know what Hermione means.

"Are you going out with him, then?" Parvati asks.

"Oh –yes—didn't you know?" Hermione says, emitting a high-pitched giggle that Ron is horrified Hermione could make.

"No!" Pavarti says back, her eyes wide, "Wow, you like your Quidditch players, don't you? First Krum, then McLaggen…"

"I like _really good_ Quiddtich players," Hermione corrects her, "Well, see you… Got to go and get ready for the party…."

A blank look crossed Ron's face, and he didn't listen to Lavender and Parvati as they discussed this new gossip, only catching snippets of conversation.

"….Victor Krum….now…..Quidditch players….."

What did she mean by _really good_? Ron was keeper, not McLaggen, that makes him a better Quidditch player, right?

Ron shrugged off Lavender after dinner, choosing to go sulk in his dormitory.

_"Blimey, Hermione, why did you come with McLaggen in the first place?" Harry asks Hermione._

_ Hermione turns to Harry, her eyes shining with tears, "Because…. Because I love him, Harry!"_

_ Hermione then flings herself at McLaggen, and then they begin kissing passionately._

Ron wakes with a start again. It's early morning, streaks of pink and puffy yellow clouds outside his window. He tries to go back to sleep, but his mind keeps drifting to the party and he keeps wondering what it would've been like if he _had_ gone to the party with Hermione.

*J.K. Rowling, Half-Blood Prince, pg. 312-313

* * *

**15.**

Ron didn't bother to snigger at the garden gnome they'd painted gold and stupefied at the top of their Christmas tree. He stretched out in his armchair, the warmth of the fire spreading to his legs.

Bill and Fleur were sitting by the fire as well, holding hands and whispering to each other.

Ron kept shooting them covert looks, he wondered if they were really, truly in love.

Were they just together because of the impending doom that Voldemort brought?

It certainly didn't seem so, Bill seemed very happy with her. His eyes twinkled whenever he spoke about her, and Bill seemed just a little… _less_… when he wasn't with her.

He certainly didn't feel that way with Lavender. He's started to feel a little bit annoyed by her presence. She was much to clingy for his taste. He couldn't help but compare Lavender to Hermione.

She's the girl he spends…. Used to…. Spend the most time with, he justified.

Anyways, Hermione wasn't overly jealous, and she didn't want to snog every minute of every day. Well, he wouldn't know, seeing as he's never been in a relationship with her.

But then again, Hermione didn't seem like the person to change just because of a relationship.

Lavender used to come off to him as a nice, not-very-bright girl.

Being in a relationship with her made him see how much of a _bad _person she was.

For example, when they were walking down the hallway, they spotted a lone two-year walking down the hallway, tossing a Fanged Frisbee in his hand.

Lavender nudged him, "Won-Won, I want a Fanged Frisbee."

Ron smiled awkwardly, "I can buy you one for Christmas."

Lavender rolled his eyes, "But, Won-Won, I want _that_ one."

"But… that's that _boy's_ Frisbee," Ron said.

Lavender's lip began to tremble, and Ron caved.

"Fanged Frisbree are banned, hand it over," Ron said to the unsuspecting boy.

The boy handed it over, albeit a little tearfully, and Ron waited until he was around the corner to give Lavender the Frisbee.

"Thank you Won-Won!" Lavender shrieked, pecking him on the cheek.

Ron grinned, and didn't ponder it any longer, but the guilt hit him later when the second-year glared at him over dinner that night.

Ron stared glumly at the fire. He wondered vaguely what Hermione was doing right now.

Was she with her parents? Was she writing to Vicky?

"Here, son," Ron's father said, sticking a glass of eggnog into Ron's hand.

Everyone begins to head off to bed, and Ron waits at the base of the stairs for Harry.

Harry walks over slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"What's up, mate?" Ron asks.

Harry shakes his head, "Nothing man, just thinking."

Ron falls asleep nearly immediately, but as he fell asleep, he wondered if Hermione would ever speak to him again.

(Based off of information from:

*J.K. Rowling, Half-Blood Prince, pg. 336)

* * *

**16.**

"Hello, brother."

"Yes. Hello, brother."

Ron turns, facing Fred and George's matching devilish grins, "What?"

Fred shrugs, "Nothing, blimey, all we said was hello."

George lest out a sigh, "It's a shame that we were stuck with such a git for brother."

Fred lets out a mock distressed sigh, "Yes, such a shame."

Ron groans, "What!"

Fred and George circle him, like vultures circling meat.

"I don't think we'll tell you, anymore, what do you think, brother?" George says, turning to Fred.

Fred nods, his face stoic, "We won't."

George then grins, "But I'm sure we can be swayed."

Ron lets out a sigh, and he pats his pockets, "Look, I've got…."

Fred and George stare at him in anticipation.

"Three sickles and a knut."

"That's it?"

"Fine. Uh, Three sickles and four knuts?"

"….."

"Five sickles and five knuts."

Fred rolls his eyes, "Our poor brother. So deprived."

George nods, "We'll have to take it. I'm feeling very generous today."

Ron lets out a huff, "Just tell me!"

Fred and George look at each other again.

Fred then leads Ron over to an arm chair, "This will take some explaining."

"Yes. Sit down," George said, showcasing the chair.

Ron sits down obediently, "Yes?"

George sits down slowly on the couch, "It has come to our attention that you've…. Rather… depressed."

"Yes, we've noticed that lately, well ever since you've started dating little miss Lavender Brown, you haven't been very happy," Fred continues, sitting down next to George.

Ron frowns, "What do you mean?"

Fred sighs, "Do we have to spell it out for you?"

George turns to Fred, "Our brother seems to be very dense. We should just tell him."

"As blunt as possible, please," Ron says, rolling his eyes.

"You should break up with her," Fred said.

Ron was shocked, what did he mean?

George nodds, "Yes, as soon as possible."

"What?" Ron asks, dumbfounded.

George rolls his eyes, "Lavender. Is. A. dumb. Floozy. And. Everyone. Hates. Her. Break. Up. With. Her. Now."

"What do you mean everyone hates her?" Ron asks.

Fred smirks, "Ah hah! So you admit that she's a dumb floozy."

Ron gulps, "She's not exactly dumb or a floozy."

George rolls his eyes, "If you actually liked her you would've punched me already."

Fred nudges George, "Imagine if we had said that about Hermione."

Ron splutters, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Mate, if you actually _liked_ her, you would've defended the fact that we called her a dumb floozy," George says.

"But what's that bit about Hermione supposed to mean?" Ron persists.

Fred and George share identical smirks, and then they nod at each other.

"Hermione is a bossy, stupid little know-it-all," Fred smirks.

Ron is outraged, "She's bossy, yeah, but she's not stupid!"

"See," George says.

Ron is just confused now, "See what?"

Fred and George just shake their heads, "Think about what we said, mate."

* * *

**17.**

Ron sifts slowly through his pile of presents, looking for Hermione's signature gold paper and red bow wrapping.

He can't spot it anywhere.

Maybe she just... changed wrapping papers?

Ron sifts through it again slowly, pushing Harry's gift (Exclusive! Chudley Cannons Poster Book with 6 Never-Before-Seen Photos!) atop the new sweater from Mum.

He sighs. All that's left for him to unwrap is a package from Fred and George and a box from Bill and Fleur.

"What 'chu lookin' for, mate?" Harry asks, chewing slowly on a Chocolate Frog, peering at Ron over a huge box of sweets.

"Nothing," Ron says dismissively. He can't tell Harry what he's looking for, Harry would laugh at him.

Wait a second. Who got him that box of sweets?

"Who gave you that big box of sweets?" Ron asks, his tone neutral.

Harry pales, and he chew slowly and swallows the Chocolate Frog before answering, "Er... Neville."

"Neville's present is over there, remember? It came about five minutes ago by owl because Neville lost them," Ron said, his eyebrow raised.

Harry was silent.

Ron coughed, "Did, uh, Hermione send you that?" Ron said, his voice wavering when he says Hermione's name.

Harry sighs, "Yeah. Don't think to much on it, mate."

Is she doing that on purpose? Is _he_ doing that on purpose?

* * *

**18.**

Ron stepped up to the Fat Lady, "Baubles."

"No," the Fat Lady replied.

Ron felt nervous, what if they were locked out until another Gryffindor came by. What if it wasn't until hours later? He had seen Neville locked out of the tower, sleeping on the floor outside the portrait hole.

"What d'you mean, 'no'?"

"There is a new password," the Fat Lady said airily, "And please don't shout."

Ron felt panicky, "But we've been away, how're we supposed to-"

Ron was cut off by a familiar voice.

"Harry! Ginny!" It was Hermione, her brown hair tucked underneath a hat and waving at them with gloved hands and her cloak flying behind her. She was running toward them.

"I got back a couple of hours ago, I've just been down to visit Hagrid and Buck - I mean Witherwings," she said, her breath coming out in quick successions and her face pink from the cold, "Did you have a good Christmas?"

"Yeah," Ron said, "pretty eventful, Rufus Scrim-"

Hermione didn't acknowledge him or that he had spoken, "I've got something for you, Harry," she doesn't glance at him at all, instead her focus solely on Harry and Ginny, "Oh, hang on - password, _Abstinence_."

"Precisely," the Fat Lady said in a weak voice, and swung forward.

"What's up with her?" Ron hears Harry ask.

"Overindulged over Christmas, apparently," Hermione replied, "She and her friend Violet drank their way through all the wine in that picture of durnk monks down by the Charms corridor. Anyway..."

She pulls out a scroll and quickly hands it to Harry.

"Won-Won!"

Lavender flings herself at Ron, and Lavender immediately begins to kiss him Ron tries to ignore that slight feeling of pain that shot through his stomach when Hermione just laugh softly at Lavender.

At least before Ron knew that she was mad, and jealous, and had some sort of... reaction, but now, this indifference was more infuriating then before.

He wanted to get it back the way it used to be, and still be able to snog a girl at the same time. (He's a teenage boy, he has hormones, you know)

He's also rather sick of having to listen to Hermione and Harry always being praised. All. the bloody. Time.

For once in his life, he felt smart. He knew he shouldn't feel better about himself because Lavender asked him once what the Levitating incantation (Wingardium Leviosa - he'd never forget the humiliation of having Hermione Granger show him that in the first year) was and he'd actually been able to answer someone's question, but he did. When Hermione asked a question, (For example, in the third year, Hermione asked Hagrid: What sort of other social conventions guard the hippogriffs and how would they respond if those conventions became obsolete? And also, how could prove that these social conventions even exist if they're animals? Perhaps they could- Hagrid had cut her off here, much to Malfoy's smug pleasure, later, Hagrid told her that the only reason that he hadn't answered was because he had absolutely no idea what she had said, but that's a different story to tell.) she dumbfounded the person she asked the question to, and then later would answer the question herself by going to library. The questions Lavender asked were so... simple. He supposed he liked that, but as really though about it, he found it annoying.

How could someone be so thick-headed that she couldn't even remember a spell that had been taught to them in the first year?

*J.K. Rowling, Half-Blood Prince, pg. 351

* * *

**19.**

Bloody Hell, what is this Golpalott's Third Law again? He could vaguely remember Hermione reciting some rubblish to Slughorn at that top speed recitation she uses in Transfiguration. And Charms. And History of Magic. And he's sure all the other classes as well.

He's in the library right now, and it's nearly lights out but he can't find the bloody book he needs.

It has to be around he somewhere, because he's in the Potions section, and Golpalott's Third Law has to do with Potions. Right?

What book does he need now, he can't understand any of these bloody titles.

_The Laws of the Magical Potency of Ingredients, _what the heck is that? _Apothecary Vs. Getting Your Own Ingredients - The Pros and Cons of Both_ ...?

Ron vaguely wishes that Hermione was here. She probably knows this place like the back of her hand, seeing as she practically lived here.

Ron groans. He supposed he shouldn't have spent every waking minute leading up to the day before the due date of the essay snogging Lavender.

He hears footsteps approaching him, and he inwardly groans.

"Madam Pince, I swear I'l be out I'm just looking for a book," Ron says, continuing to search for something that says, "Golpalott's" or "Third."

The person snorts derisively, "I'd like to think I don't look _that_ old."

Ron whips his head around.

Hermione is glaring at him, her hair held back in a tight ponytail.

"Oh. Uh, sorry," Ron says, and he turns back to looking.

He wants to ask for her help, but it's so... embarrassing, and she probably wouldn't help him anyways.

"You looking for something?" Hermione asks airily, pulling out some books and examining them.

Ron coughs, "Er, no."

Hermione rolls his eyes, "I highly doubt you were in the library for 'just pleasure.'"

Ron sighs, and the lump he swallows feels like his pride going down his throat, "I was looking for a book for the... uh... potions essay."

"Pavarti checked out the last one which she then gave to Lavender to use. I'm sure when she's finished with it she'll let you borrow it," Hermione says tartly.

Ron groans, "When do you think she'll be done with it?"

Hermione shrugs, "Probably after she's done gossiping with Pavarti about how Pavarti saw McLaggen sucking face with Adriana Terratonna in our shared dormitory."

"You don't seem very broken up over it," Ron says nonchalantly.

"Yes, well, as you know, McLaggen and I had established that our relationship was at its end before he began sucking face with another person," Hermione says nonchalantly.

Jesus, women were confusing.

Hermione pulls out another book, stacking it in the growing pile in her arms, "Well, I'll be off."

Ron gathers his things, hastily stuffing everything back into his bag.

"Hermione! Wait up!" Ron says, jogging to catch up with her.

Hermione whips around, her brow raised curiously, "Pardon?"

"I'll, uh, walk you back," Ron says, awkwardly shouldering his bags.

A ghost of a smile appears on Hermione's face, "Thanks."

"So, er, how was your Christmas?" Ron asks, trying to dispel the awkward silence

"Oh, it was fine, I just stayed home, you know," Hermione said.

Ron nodded, "Oh, erm, that's... nice."

Awkward silence settles between them. Hermione sniffs, and the sound of Ron's feet dragging across the marble floor echoes off the walls of the castle.

They get to the portrait hole, and after muttering the password to the drowsy-looking Fat Lady, and walking it into the common room.

It's nearly empty, Harry went up to bed a long time ago, and the only people left is a couple fifth-years studying for their O.W.L.'s.

Hermione gives Ron a curt nod before going up to her dormitory.

Ron groans. His essay is due in twelve hours and he doesn't even have a first sentence.

In five minutes, Hermione is storming back down from her dormitory.

At Ron's quizzical expression, Hermione just states coolly, "Lavender and Pavarti are still gossiping."

Hermione plops down in an armchair by the fire, curling up with a big book, tucking her legs carefully underneath her.

Ron glares at the thirteen-inches of parchment that is still blank. The paper staring back him. Mocking him.

Hermione looks up from her over her book, "Aren't you going to start?"

Ron looks up at her, "I have no idea what I'm supposed to be writing about."

Hermione looks at him condescendingly, "Maybe, Ronald, you should've paid attention in class when Professor Slughorn explained it to us."

This is familiar, Hermione will lecture him, Ron will say something snide, and then Hermione will be pissed, then Ron will beg her, Hermione will force him to apologize, and then she'll help him (do) his homework.

"'Us?' What do you mean, 'us?'" Ron says stoutly, "You were the only one who understood a bloody word of what he was saying in there."

Hermione glared at him, turning back to her book, "I see you haven't changed a bit."

"What do you want me to do? Change my attitude towards Potions? Change my I.Q. level? My attention span?" Ron says hotly.

His temper's getting the better of him, and he feels a nagging voice at the back of his head telling him to stop.

Hermione would say something biting back, but she doesn't. She spares him a frustrated glance, and she turns back to her book.

Ron lets out a sigh, "Sorry. Um, I'm stressed."

Hermione sighs, and then rummages through the pile of neatly stacked books by her arm chair, "Here."

_An Advanced Understanding of Poisons & Antidotes and the Laws that Guard Them_

Ron looks blankly at it, blinking at the cover, "Hermione, since when have I had an, 'advanced understanding?'"

Hermione glares sharply at him, "Beggars cannot be choosers, Ron."

Ron carefully takes the book from her hand, flipping through it, "Hermione..."

Hermione lets out an annoyed sigh, "Yes, Ron?"

Ron glances at her, "Why can't we be friends?"

"I had the notion we were perfectly good acquaintances, Ronald," Hermione says coolly.

"Acquaintances and friends isn't the same thing," Ron says back stoutly.

"I am sure you can find them quite synonymous," Hermione tersely says.

Ron studies her face closely. Her lips are pressed into a thin line, and her eyes are glimmering with anger.

At least it's better then the cool detachment she's been giving him lately.

"Please, Hermione," Ron says quietly, "It's almost my birthday."

Hermione's face hardens for a second, "I'm not going to write your essay for you."

Ron sighs, "That's not what I want. I want us to be friends again."

"We can't go back, Ron," Hermione says quietly, "We just can't."

"Why the bloody hell not?" Ron asks, angered.

Hermione glares at him, "Because."

"Because? That's not a reason, that's a bloody word," Ron says.

A fifth year shoots him a glare and he lowers his voice to a whisper.

"Look, Hermione," Ron says sighing, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay? There. I said it. I'm sorry."

Hermione's mouth sets into a grim line, and she looks at him for a prolonged moment before she sighs, "Me too, Ron. I'm sorry too."

* * *

**20.**

Ron tips the goblet that Slughorn had thrust into his hand eagerly. Happy for a pick-me-up after the rather horrid experience of having his emotions toyed with. He gulps it down noisily, and but when he tries to swallow, he find he can't. He can't breathe. He can't feel his legs. He gags, and the horror sets in.

He's going to die. He's been poisoned?

He feels something trickle down his chin. Saliva? Blood?

He feels dizzy, and there are black spots flashing before his eyes. He can vaguely see Harry's face before he feels a sudden pain at the back of his head.

He hears shouts, the loud sounds of a voice yelling.

He sees Hermione's face enveloped in a white mist whispering a sweet, soft word that he can't hear, before it all fades into darkness.

* * *

**21.**

_A pretty face framed by wild brown curls. An inquisitive nose, set above a pair of thin lips pulled back into a slight frown._

_"Ronald? Ron!" she says. Her voice is shrill, and she seems to be annoyed._

_Is she talking to him?_

_She snaps her fingers. They're in some sort of large room, four long, wooden tables side by side. They're alone, so she must be speaking to her, right?_

_"Ron!" she says again, "I asked you if you wanted to go to Slughorn's party with me."_

_Slughorn? Who is Slughorn?_

_The girl looks at him pointedly, "Hello? Ron? Earth to Ron?"_

_Ron stutters for a moment, "Yes?"_

_"I asked you if you..." she blushes, "if you wanted to go to Slughorn's party with me?"_

_Hermione. Her name is Hermione. He remembers now._

_Her-my-nee._

_Her-my-o-knee._

_"Sure," Ron says, "I'd love to Hermione."_

_She smiles, and leans in closer._

_He closes his eyes in anticipation, but she disappears. Vanishes into mist._

_"HERMIONE!" Ron yells, frightened._

_"HERMIONE!"_

He feels himself drift back into consciousness, but he doesn't open his eyes. Something warm and soft is gripping his hand and he cracks his eyes open.

He sees the familiar bushy brown hair. Sharp, intelligent nose. Thin lips.

He fights the smile threatening to cross his face, to ruin their little moment.

Hermione affectionately pushes Ron's hair away from his eyes.

He hears the start of his name begin to roll off her tongue.

Not Won-Won, or Ronniekins, but just plain Ron.

_"Ron..."_ she whispers.

Ron opens his eyes fully now, and Hermione lets out a gasp, startled.

"Sorry, I-" Hermione stutters.

There are tear tracks on her face, marring her porcelain skin.

They just stare longingly at each other for a second before Hermione flings herself in his arms.

She's sobbing, her shoulders shake and her face is buried in the crook of her neck, "I'm so- I thought-"

She doesn't seem to be able to manage a coherent sentence, but Ron understands the unspoken words. He wraps his arms around her tightly, promising that he'll never let her go again.

* * *

**22.**

This was familiar. Hermione would sit, reading, in the armchair by the fire, while Ron would attempt to finish his homework that was due in about six hours...

Her page turns, he scratches on the parchment, drawing a small doodle of a stick man holding a wand and hexing a small cat that looked suspiciously like Crookshanks.

Her page turns again.

The fire crackles.

He's content to drink it in, feeling the peace settle and sink.

Ron studies her face, mesmerized by the way her pretty brown hair falls in her face. She looks up, and their eyes lock. She blushes, and turns back to her book.

He smiles to himself, content to go back to scribbling little stick-boy holding hands with a stick-girl with wild, bushy hair.

* * *

**23.**

Ron carefully grips Hermione's hand as she sniffles into his shoulder. He gently pats his shoulder, tears running down his own face. Hermione lets out another wracking sob.

The sad, forlorn cry of a Phoenix echoes in the distance, and another tear slides down his pale face.

Ron gently rubs small circles into her shoulder, his fingers gently skimming over her damp cheeks.

He wonders what to say. He can't say it's okay, because it's not okay. Professor Dumbledore is six feet under, the only wizard He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named feared is gone, so no, he'd have to say things aren't okay. It's not alright either. Those two words are the same.

Hermione then suddenly perks up, having spied something, and she dries her tears. Ron's arms slowly slide down from her arms, and land casually around her waist.

Hermione nudges her gently, "_Look," _she whispers.

Ron follows her gaze, his sight landing on Harry gently caressing Ginny's hair.

Ron goes to stand up, but Hermione gently wraps her delicate fingers around his wrist, Ron turns to glare at her, but he sees the gentle smile crossing her face, and he stops, a matching smile slowly appearing on his own face.

Maybe it's not okay now, but it would be soon.

* * *

**24.**

Ron watches contently as the wind whips through Hermione's hair, a quiet, thoughtful expression on her face as she gazes out over the expanse of the Hogwarts grounds. Her warm brown eyes sweep over the grass, and he wishes he could reach out to tuck the loose strand of hair flapping away in the wind.

He sighs. And Hermione mimics him. She looks away, and her gaze locks with Ron's. She smiles, and she pulls her jumper off, tucking it carefully around her arm. The last glimpses of spring are fading and with it, the cool wind.

Ron clears his throat, "So, uh, Hermione, I was wondering if you were sure about really changing your parent's..."

He let the question hang in the air.

Hermione turns back to the grounds, eyeing the horizon of the trees. Students are leaving, and a couple cups and napkins and other assorted trashes are still littering the grounds from the funeral.

Her face goes tight, "Yes," she says firmly, "I'm sure."

Her voice is constricted, and Ron carefully wraps Hermione in hug. She contently leans her head against his chest, and her hair tickles his chin. She's almost a full head shorter, and she fits almost perfectly. Her jacket is squished between them and fingers gently traces small circles on his shirt. They remain like that for a while.

Because they know it might be all they have.

* * *

**25.**

"Is Hermione going to be coming over, Ron? What did she say when you asked her?" Ron's mom asks as they're getting ready to go back to the Burrow.

"She just needs to get some things straightened up and she'll be coming," Ron says.

Mrs. Weasley pulls Ron aside rather gruffly, "You listen hear, Ronald Weasley. You treat that girl nice because she is the only girl I've seen able to stomach your horrid eating habits and I will not be having one of my children not give me any grandchildren!"

Ron groans, "It's not me, she just... It's hard to explain."

Mrs. Weasley studied Ron closely, and then pecked him affectionately on the cheek, "I can't wait for your wedding, Ronnie, my little baby boy! All grown up and with a girl friend!"

"MUM!"

**... The End ...**

**Twenty-four and a half moments of Half Blood Prince Goodness! Thanks for reading. Shows over.**


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